Deception
by The World Out There
Summary: When Arthur is cursed to transform into a magical creature, he and Merlin set out to find Emrys, a supposedly old creepy man that lives in the forest, to find a cure. Finding him proves to be a problem, and when they do, where is Merlin? Arthur discovers more than he was supposed to. Reveal!fic. Rated T because of reasons I have not yet discovered. Bromance, no slash.
1. Rashes and Quarrels

** Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin **

**AN: Hello everyone! This is my very first fic, so I hope you like it. I know it's not terribly good.  
**

* * *

_The woman peered into the water, the sleeping figure of the King reflecting in her emerald eyes. Murmuring something incomprehensible, her eyes turned a blazing gold, and the image in the scrying bowl turned silver. The woman smirked triumphantly. "_Soon, Emrys."_ she whispered, her silky voice echoing through time and space._

* * *

"Is it bad?" Arthur asked, trying to peer over his shoulder at the physician. The old man frowned, leaning to examine the cause of irritation. The rash was big, he agreed, but nothing to get worked up about. White, pink lining the edges and hot to the touch, it was like any other rash Gaius had seen. Yes, it was unpleasant, but nothing you wouldn't expect. The man had been wearing his armor non-stop for days; it was only natural his body had reacted to it. Gaius picked a bottle from a shelf, popping it open and smearing it onto the rash. "I expect it to be gone in a couple hours. It is, after all, only a rash, sire."

"It sure seems to be more irritating than one."

Gaius finished rubbing the liquid onto Arthur's back, watching as it disappeared into the King's skin. He glanced at Merlin. The lanky young man seemed to be quite amused, leaning against the table and smiling goofily at Arthur, who was laying on his stomach.

The King was glaring back, Gaius noticed, as the old man turned to put the bottle back on a shelf.

"What's the matter, _Mer_lin?" Arthur suddenly exclaimed, losing the staring contest between the two. "Why are you smiling at me like that?"

Merlin grin grew even wider. "Oh, nothing. I was just thinking that the mighty King of Camelot has fought dragons, sorcerers, evil. After all that, with all your injuries, you didn't make a peep. But now, a rash, and you squeal and go straight to Gaius. Very heroic, milord."

The physician suppressed a smile. He had grown quite fond of their banter, and it was always worth his time to see what the next insult was. He looked expectantly to Arthur.

The King was most definitely not amused.

The servant ducked and dodged the household items that had suddenly become projectiles. Somewhat more skillfully and gracefully than he had before, Gaius noted proudly. He was becoming better.

Arthur rolled out of his laying position, grabbing his shirt. Merlin gave the old man a look that said: _See? What did I tell you?_ and scrambled back into the hall, Arthur hot on his heels.

Gaius laughed quietly to himself when he heard the startled yelps of the maids and the sound of platters falling. He shook his head. Young people were so hotheaded.

The smile quickly turned into a frown as he realized he would be the one cleaning up.

* * *

Arthur struck the dummy with his sword, faintly aware that Merlin was watching from the side. The rash was infuriating. It itched so badly, but rubbing at it through his chainmail only made it worse. Whatever Gaius had put on it, it had only soothed the rash for less than an hour. At least he didn't have to _drink_ a potion. Those things were foul.

His blade impaled the dummy, cutting through the straw effortlessly. The dummy jolted at the impact, the helmet on its head shaking as it did so. Freeing his weapon from the straw, he looked up as a figure approached. "Gwaine? What do you want, mate?"

Gwaine held up his sword, the blade glinting in the sunlight. His dark hair still had its natural wave in it, which was actually quite surprising considering the amount of fighting the knight had done today. "Come on. Let's spar." he said, turning on his heel and exiting the dummy area. Arthur grinned and followed without question.

"You sure you want to speed your way to certain death, Gwaine?"

"Isn't that what I'm supposed to ask you?"

"Very funny."

The moment they entered the clearing where the other knights were, Gwaine spun around and attacked. The sound of metal clashing and scraping rang through the clearing as the King blocked the blow and swung his own.

Slowly, the knights gathered to see the fight, laughing and cheering as the two men rolled, stabbed, swung and blocked. After a good ten minutes, no one seemed to have advantage of the situation yet, but the crowds hadn't subsided.

Merlin watched, intrigued. A lot of the people in the crowd were talking in hushed tones, glancing around to see if anyone was listening. Knowing that they were setting up bets, he smiled. _I wonder how much they're willing to lose_, he wondered. No matter how many times the King and knight fought, the outcome was always the same. How people still managed to lose money because of it was lost to him. The crowd roared- some, Merlin knew, in laughter- and moved forward to congratulate the two men. The servant caught a glimpse of them surrounded by the red cloaks of knights, holding their swords at each other's throats.

* * *

"That rash is infuriating. You know how many times it distracted me? In a real fight, I'd be dead because of it." Arthur complained, handing Merlin his weapon. "I'm pretty sure the knights were betting again too. They seemed to find it funny that we tied."

The servant rolled his eyes. Leave it to Arthur to be oblivious. His lips twitching upwards, his long fingers grasped the hilt of Excalibur, sliding it back into the sheath. "Well, I'm not surprised. You know, the outcome was pretty predictable."

"What, me winning?"

"I guess you really are as dense as you look." Merlin ducked, narrowly avoiding the slap that was heading for his head. "You and Gwaine tie every time."

"It doesn't happen that often."

"It does. This is your eleventh sparring this month."

Arthur scowled, his stormy blue eyes narrowing threateningly. Merlin ignored his intense gaze, his nimble fingers rapidly undoing the buckles of his armor. The metal plates were set neatly in a pile to be polished later, and as the servant moved to take off his chain mail, the King held up a hand to stop him. "I'm going to take a look at the new recruits, maybe take part in the training myself. Can you tell Gaius to prepare something for that rash?"

"Yes, sire." The raven-haired young man said, picking up the armor and exiting the King's chambers. He could tell that something other than the rash was bothering Arthur, but decided not to ask. They were at war, after all. There were plenty of things to be worried about. The recent sighting of Morgana, for example, was extremely troubling in itself, and that wasn't even the worst. The rumors of armies in the north...

A piercing wail cut through the air, sending shivers down Merlin's spine. Dropping the metal plates with a clatter, he spun around, sky-blue eyes searching for the origin. What on earth could have made that noise? Was it even human?

Faces peeked out of doorways, terrified expressions visible as they desperately tried to pinpoint where it had come from. People in the hallways stopped to see what was going on. All of the sudden, a maid carrying a bundle of sheets dropped her load and pointed.

Arthur was on hands and knees, heaving. He was not far from his door, he must have been on his way to the training grounds. The royal seemed to be in excruciating pain, but did not make another sound as he stared at the floor, panting. Merlin sprinted toward him, but skidded to a halt when the man collapsed. Writhing across the floor, Arthur groaned and screamed in anguish as he clutched his body. "Arthur!" Gwaine appeared, shoving a path through the crowd. Most of the frightened people stepped aside, eyes wide as they watched the knight scramble to reach their King's side. The noble commoner pinned the blonde's arms to his sides and trapped his legs, stopping the writhing. Several knights joined the struggle of holding the King down as Gwaine got more resistance. The servant watched, horrified, as his king's breathing became sharp, ragged gaps and a thin sheen of sweat appeared on his forehead. Then he became still, and his eyes fluttered shut.

* * *

Gaius leaned over the King for the second time that day, examining his lower back. The rash had disappeared without a trace, leaving only clammy skin to look at. The skin was still sensitive, however, twitching whenever he touched it.

"Is he alright?" Merlin asked, his voice soft and concerned. The old physician turned to look at him. The servant was paler than usual, his milky white skin contrasting sharply against the black of his hair. He looked tired, Gaius noticed, exhausted. The circles under his eyes seemed to be more obvious than usual, his goofy smile not there to hide them. The old man gave him a comforting smile.

"I'm not entirely sure." He said, turning his gaze back to Arthur. "We are out of stock at the moment. Get me some Yarrow, Angelica and Rosemary at the Rhonestyne trail."

"Ginger?"

"Yes. Be careful."

Merlin acknowledged this with a curt nod, scrambling out of the door to get the requested herbs. The poor boy had had nothing to keep his mind off of the 'accident', and being Merlin, he took every opportunity to help. Gaius sighed. The warlock's loyalty, he knew, was unwavering. But as nice as that was, his position as manservant to the King had made him a target to enemies of Camelot before. He knew valuable information. The physician really wouldn't have sent him to the dangerous Rhonestyne trail if he could have helped it, but it was the only place close enough to the castle where herbs could be found in abundance.

Merlin would be fine, he tried to assure himself. The boy had saved Camelot more than once. There were more pressing matters at hand.

The King.

What could have caused so much pain? Not a headache, that was for sure. According to descriptions of various witnesses, not even a severely broken limb could have managed to cause it. And the man was unharmed, he didn't have a scratch on him. What was going on?

Gaius busied himself as he waited for his ward to return. He mixed potions for Arthur to drink when he woke up, adding many distasteful ingredients that were unpleasant but necessary if the potion were to work. Holding the steaming concoction up to the light, he squinted his eyes to stare at it. It was the right color; a dark orange that didn't look at all appetizing, but it didn't smell quite right. Sighing, he set it down to cool, writing a mental reminder to add some leftover Ginger if he had it.

"Did you make any progress? How is he?"

Merlin burst through the door, his trusty worn leather bag slung around his shoulder. He looked a little ruffled, mud covering his face and hair sticking up in all directions, but he didn't seem harmed. The bandits hadn't found him after all. Gaius shouldn't have worried, Merlin could take care of himself.

"There's been little change, but I can't seem to find the cause. He doesn't have a scratch on him, and it couldn't be internal bleeding, he'd be dead by now."

Merlin rushed to the makeshift bed, eyes moving rapidly to take in the full sight of his King. The blond's breaths were shallow and quick, and Gaius didn't need to check to know that his heart was beating at the rate of a jack rabbit's. Suddenly, Merlin exclaimed: "Where is the rash?"

"Gone."

"How did it disappear without a trace? He was complaining about it right before it happened. He said it was itching right here." The young warlock moved his hand to point at the spot, finger touching the clammy skin lightly.

The moment Merlin's finger connected with the King's skin, a wave of silver light flooded the room, blinding the two men. A rush of sounds met their ears. Screaming and whispering voices seemed to circle their heads, beasts roared in the distance, children cried. Everything was silver -there were no objects- although their surroundings seemed to change with the sounds. A mysterious forest, a burning village. Then as soon as it had come, the silver dimension disappeared and they were standing next to Arthur again.

Everything was the same, no evidence of what had just happened remained. Yet, one thing had changed, they could both sense it.

Right there, in shimmering, silver letters, on Arthur's lower back stood one word; one name:

_Emrys_

**_AN: Thank you so much for reading! Tell me what you think, I am more than open to tips and suggestions. And yes, I know the characters aren't really like the characters in some parts. Next chapter (hopefully) coming up soon. Depends on school. :( (Edit 21 Okt. 2014: I changed it a lot, I know, but I just wasn't satisfied with it. I tried to keep it as unchanged as possible, just added some more detail.)  
_**


	2. Silver

**Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin *sobs***

**AN: Hey guys, thank you so much for reading/reviewing/following/favoriting! I am extremely grateful for your encouragement, and I really appreciate that you were patient enough for this chapter. I know it took a long time, and I'm sorry for that. School... and me being a lazy bum has delayed it. :)**

_Arthur looked around, confused. Where was he? Everything was silver, and he couldn't tell left from right._

_Was he dead? Was this the afterlife?_

_ Questions filled his mind, confusing him even more. He tried to focus on the one that confused him the most. Why couldn't he see anything? It surprised him, that that was his main thought. It was not of Camelot, or death. It was a plain simple question, that so many people before him had probably asked themselves. The weird thing was, he heard plenty.__ Birds chirped and something howled. He smelled the musty scent of the forest floor and sensed life forms around him. Shivers ran up his spine. In this place, all of his senses seemed to be enhanced, except his sight. Was he blind? He had always imagined that blind people saw only black. Not a bright silver. He hadn't realized how dependent he was on his eyes before. Well, he wasn't using them, might as well close them. Anything was better than that blinding silver. The moment he closed his eyes, shapes became visible in his mind's eye. At first he thought he was imagining things, but slowly he starting to discern trees. Slowly, everything came into view. Leaves covered the dirt floor, and a cave loomed in front of him. He opened his eyes. The world was gone. Silver stretched in all directions, but when he closed them again, it was back. Arthur tried opening and closing his eyes a couple times before he was convinced that it was real._

_He approached the cave, studying the symbol on a rock. It was a complicated pattern of curves and lines, but somehow it radiated energy. He leaned closer, noticing that it was faintly luminous. Why was this obviously magical thing glowing? He reached to touch it, but snatched his hand back abruptly when he realized what he was doing. It was magic! Why would he touch it? He had lost so much to sorcery. _

_Suddenly, he wasn't alone._

_A warm hand touched his shoulder. On an impulse, he spun around and opened his eyes. A woman stood there, her armor reflecting the silver emptiness around her. Her black hair reached down to her waist. Arthur shivered. She looked like Morgana, but... warmer. Instead of pale, this woman was tan, her cheekbones were more defined and her lips were red. Arthur expected brown eyes as he looked up, but instead intense pale blue eyes ringed by black stared back at him. Agreed, she was beautiful, but something about the way her eyes stared at him made him take a step back. He reached for his sword, only to realize that it wasn't there. "Who are you?" He asked suspiciously._

_"My name is Lanae. I have come to warn you."_

_"For what?"_

_"The curse that has settled on you."_

_Arthur grabbed her arm. "If you did it, I swear-"_

_She disappeared. Staring at the spot where she had been standing just a moment ago, he blinked. Then he spun around. "You're a witch!"_

_She appeared in front of him, slightly amused. _

_"That is not the point. Kaena has put a curse on you, and if you do not do anything about it, you will die."_

_Arthur frowned. Apparently, this woman was not hostile. But she was a witch, which meant that he couldn't trust her word. Still, he didn't like the idea of dying, and she did have magic... __"Can you lift it?"_

_She blinked, surprised. Then she shook her head. "Sadly, no. Only Emrys, the most powerful warlock of all time, can."_

_Arthur grunted in frustration. "What does this curse do, exactly?"_

_"I don't know. The Araendye curse is very unpredictable, but in every case, someone dies."_

_"But-"_

_She silenced him, jerking her head abruptly to look over her shoulder. She closed her eyes momentarily._

_"You need to leave. Kaena has been made aware of our presence. She is coming."_

_Arthur's vision began to darken. He realized he was being sucked back into the living. He asked his one final question:_

"Where_ do I find this Emrys?"_

_She chuckled. "I'll leave that for you to figure out. He is closer than you think."_

_What does she mean? He wondered. He didn't have much time to think about it. Slowly, his vision darkened until he could only see her face. She smiled._

_"Until we meet again, Arthur Pendragon."_

_The last thing he saw before he blacked out were her pale blue eyes, filled with pity._

**AN: So? What do you think? I know it was short, please forgive me. Next update will be as soon as possible.**


	3. Cursed

**AN: I'm back! *avoids rotten tomatoes***

**Yes, I know it's been a long time, and here is my excuse: I didn't know exactly what the plot was, and was trying out versions. I think I know what it is now(hopefully). I hope you like it.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin, I'm just stealing- I mean borrowing it for a while.**

Merlin paced in front of Gaius, biting his nails anxiously. His footsteps echoed as they hit the stone floor.

"I'm sure he's fine, Merlin."

"He's been out for two days."

"That doesn't have to mean anything."

"TWO DAYS, GAIUS. BECAUSE OF A RASH. It means something."

"It's a magical rash."

"THAT'S WHY I'M WORRIED."

Gaius sighed, rubbing his temple. He felt as if they had this conversation before. "My dear boy, he will be up and complaining before the day has ended."

Right on cue, a voice yelled, followed by a painful thud. Merlin glanced at the old physician and rushed out of the room. Opening the the door to his room, he caught sight of the King next to the bed. The bedding was crumpled and creased, a stray pillow resting on his lap. Arthur wore a confused expression, blinking heavily and frowning at Merlin. Apparently, the barely conscious man had fallen out and hit his head. Hand still clutching the side of his head, the King looked up at his servant. "Tell me, Merlin, how do you sleep in this thing? It's incredibly small."

The warlock frowned at the shattered potion bottle Arthur had taken down with him in his journey to the floor before meeting his master's eyes. "Are you alright?"

Arthur groaned. "I guess. I had the weirdest dream." He struggled to get back on his feet, Merlin reaching to help him. "Really Arthur, what did you eat?" The younger man groaned, trying to support the blonde's weight with his thin frame.

"I am _not fat_!"

"You sure about that?" Merlin complained, releasing the King as soon as they got to a bench. He rubbed his shoulder. Mumbling about 'stupid prat' and 'diet', he earned a raised eyebrow from the physician, effectively shutting him up. Gaius turned to Arthur. "Sire, may I check your, ah, wound? You may have bruised it when you fell from the bed."

Merlin chuckled. Glaring at him moodily, the nobleman muttered a curt: "Alright."

While the old man undid the bandages on the King's lower back, Merlin moved closer. "You mentioned you had a dream, sire."

Arthur scowled, recalling the eery symbol and intimidating woman. "Yes, it was very strange. You see, where I was, it was all silver. I couldn't see a thing."

Both Gaius and Merlin froze in their tracks, exchanging a look Arthur could not read. He felt the physician stop unwrapping the fabric.

"Go on."

Arthur told them about how his senses had been messed up, seeing in his mind's eye, and the symbol, but before he got to the part about the curse and 'Emrys' he slowly came to a stop, noticing their expressions. They were of astonishment. The noble narrowed his eyes. "You don't believe me, do you?"

Merlin was the first to break out of his daze. "No! No, we believe you, just... Could you repeat the name?"

"Well, the woman with the armor was Lanae, and she mentioned another name. I can't seem to remember-"

Gaius interrupted, his voice emotionless."Kaena."

Arthur blinked, noticing the older man's grave expression for the first time. "Yes, that's it. How did you know?"

"Kaena and Lanae were legendary witches. Kaena was not only feared for her destructive power, but also for her knowledge. It was said she knew all of the curses and spells."

Arthur's eyes widened. "What about Lanae?"

"Lanae was her counterpart. She would mend the destruction Kaena would cause. But centuries ago, both disappeared. They were pronounced dead."

Merlin frowned, staring at Gaius. At first the King could not figure out why, but trained as he was for noticing small things, he saw the old man's eyebrow twitch almost imperceptibly. "Gaius, you are hiding something. Spit it out."

The physician hesitated, then sighed. "People say that, right before Kaena disappeared, she created a curse."

Merlin interrupted. "Well, that's not so strange. Witches and sorcerers do it all the time."

"And how would you know, _Mer_lin?"

The young man avoided his gaze. Gaius looked almost sad. "Merlin does have a point. Creating a curse or spell is not uncommon. But what Kaena did was exceptional. Her curse could only be used on one person at a time, and crossed all physical and magical boundaries. The victim would turn into a mythical beast."

A shudder ran up Arthur's spine. His father had taught him enough about magic for him to know that transforming into any legendary, magical and mythical beast was something that no one would even think of. All people with magic respected such creatures and wouldn't dare to do such a thing.

"But she didn't stop at that. Whoever unfortunate enough to receive such a curse would also become possessed, although it takes time. The first one only had four days before his soul disappeared. The second was lucky enough to have weeks."

Arthur tried to imagine his friends like that, but imagining Leon as a wolf with red eyes creeping up behind him was too much for his mind to bear. "Did someone have to cast the spell every time?"

"No. Only Kaena knew how to cast the curse. The cursed one would have one name on it's mind, and would destroy everything in it's wake until it finds the person the name belongs to. Then it will transfer the curse to that person and die. When that happens, the cycle begins anew."

"How come we haven't heard about it before?"

"After the sixth curse, a brave man named Suwyl stopped it. No one knows how, but since then no one has suffered because of it."

Arthur's muscles tensed. What if... "Did this curse have a name?"

Gaius scowled. "Yes, it is known as the Araendye curse."

_The Araendye curse. _The name echoed in his mind. Arthur fell off the bench, his breath turning shallow. Until now, he had entirely forgotten about his curse. Was that really what was going to happen to him? Was he going to turn into some horrid monster and attack his friends? Lanae had said something very unnerving about that curse... _The Araendye curse is very unpredictable. _What did she mean with that? A voice jolted him out of his daze.

"Sire? Sire! Are you alright?"

Merlin and Gaius looked down at him, concerned. Should he tell them? No. If Camelot discovered that their King was cursed, there would be chaos.

"Y... Yes."

Merlin knelt down beside him. "Arthur, you are not alright. Something happened in your dream, other than what you have told us."

The King hesitated, but then nodded. He needed help, he didn't even know where to find this Emrys. Surely, Gaius could help. "After that woman appeared, she told me I was cursed. She told me that it was the..." he struggled to pronounce the name. "That curse you were talking about. When I asked her if she could lift it, she just smiled and said that only Emrys could."

Merlin stood up again, an unreadable look in his eyes. Glancing at Gaius, the servant left the room without another word. Surprised, the King's eyes followed him out the door. "What's with him?" He asked Gaius.

"I think he's just upset that you're cursed. Not to worry, I'm sure he'll be back."

"Gaius, where would I find Emrys? I don't want to become possessed."

"No one knows who exactly he is except the druids, but word has gotten out that he lives in a old hunting cabin at the edge of the forest of Essetir. Best to look there first. If he's not there, keep travelling to the druids. They will know."

He hadn't noticed it before, but he was shaking. His hands were trembling, his body quaking violently. Yes, he had been poisoned, enchanted, threatened and more, but none of them had actually harmed the ones he loved(or at least, none he knew of). It was too much, too cruel. He the king, the protector of his people, would not see them slaughtered by himself, even if it meant he would have to die. The idea of him as a huge, muscled griffin looming over a terrified Guinevere crept to the front of his mind. That would not happen.

He would make sure of that. "That sounds reasonable. I'll go find Merlin."

Gaius cleared his throat. "Well, could I perhaps check your wound before you go, sire? I never had the chance."

Arthur waved his hand dismissively. "Be my guest."

Gaius carefully unwrapped the bandage, staring at the spot for a while before replacing the covering. Arthur craned his neck to look, but the older man had already hidden the 'injury' from sight.

"Nothing wrong, I'm guessing?"

"Nothing, sire."

"Good. I'll go find Merlin."

Gaius stared after the King as he exited the chambers. The man obviously had no idea how big the problem was. It was worse than Arthur could ever imagine. The risk of the curse, the danger, was enormous. The physician felt sorry for Merlin. The young man was powerful enough to save himself, but this concerned the entire kingdom. If he failed, Camelot would be thrown into chaos at the mere idea of their King slaughtering his own people. It actually happening meant the downfall of the kingdom. But the old man knew not only Camelot was at risk. So was Merlin's heart. Seeing his best friend transform into a bloodthirsty, murderous creature would shatter it into a million pieces, never to be repaired.

Gaius looked at the old bandage he had taken from the King. Yes, knowing it was happening was bad, terrifying and heartbreaking at the same time. But seeing it happening was even more so.

He shuddered at the memory of the pair of golden, overlapping scales growing from the the King's skin.

**AN: Yay, finally! I finished the chapter! **

**So people, I have had some weird thoughts on my pen name. People with multiple words in their name tend to only use the initials(e.g. RWTDMAS (=Random Words That Don't Make Any Sense)). Some people have asked me why I don't do that, and here's the reason. My initials would be, yes, THWOT. I don't know about you guys, but in my brain THWOT is the equivalent of THWACK. So there you go, that's the reason. :)**

**Reviews? Please?**


	4. Traveling

**Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin. I am however, obessed with Merlin.**

** Sorry guys, this chapter is mostly dialogue. Mostly just describing the trip. I've tried to insert a bit of attempted humor, but remember, it is _attempted_.**

**HAPPY BIRTHDAY DAD!**

* * *

Stunned. Astonished. Flabbergasted. Arthur wasn't sure how to describe how he felt. "_What_?"

Merlin gave him a exasperated stare. "You heard me."

"You're just going to... abandon me? As much as it pains me to say it, Merlin, I have always been impressed by your stubbornness to go with me."

The servant fingered his red scarf, staring sadly into the distance. "I'm sorry Arthur, it's just..."

"Just what?" Arthur asked sharply. He felt betrayed. He hadn't taken the curse seriously before, but now Merlin had refused to go with him, it seemed to be worse. Much worse. Going to see the most powerful warlock of all time with a trusted friend was one thing, going alone was another. After all they had done together, how could he abandon Arthur that? He had faced a bloody dragon with him!

The servant sighed, lifting his head ever so slightly. Arthur froze. Was that glint in his eye... guilt? Before Arthur could investigate any further, the eyes turned back to the floor, the glint disappearing into the shadows of his eyelid.

"Just... Arthur, it's complicated. I'm not going. Get over it."

This shattered Arthur's patience. Growling, he grabbed Merlin's arm and pulled him toward the court yard. The young man yelped, slapping Arthur's hand, and causing him to let go. Arthur turned, his hard gaze softening as he saw Merlin's frightened expression. What was he doing? He couldn't force his friend. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to... I'm just scared." he blurted, ignoring the startled stares he got from passerby. "I'm terrified. Don't abandon me. I can't go there alone."

Merlin was torn. He knew what Arthur said was true, he wouldn't make it without the support of a friend. But going with him would be to much of a risk. Arthur would go looking for him after he disappeared. Of course, he would be there, in the form of Emrys, but Arthur wouldn't know that. He couldn't go.

He swore Arthur looked like a baby seal. His eyes were big and round, begging him to help.

He didn't realize he'd nodded until Arthur clapped him on the shoulder. "Go get another horse ready. I'll be waiting by the gate."

The King walked off, Merlin glaring after him.

Sometimes he really hated his selflessness.

* * *

"Took you long enough." Arthur chuckled as Merlin struggled to get the pack on his horse. The servant climbed on himself, but froze when he saw the angry glare the blond was sending him. "What?"

"Where is the other pack?"

"We're sharing one. You are going on a diet."

"_Merlin_!"

"Don't look at me like that. You could lose some 'padding'."

Merlin practically saw the smoke curling from his nostrils. "I am _fighting fit_!"

"Whatever you say, sire."

Arthur sent him a death glare. The next few minutes were ridden in silence, only broken by the occasional jangling of chain mail. It was welcomed by Merlin. While Arthur was always complaining about Merlin talking too much, the servant noticed that the King was a chatterbox himself. He could think of the strangest things to complain about. Some things didn't even make sense. 'Merlin, have you seen these socks? I'm absolutely certain that the blue was duller yesterday. Go wash them.' It was hilarious to see Arthur fretting about things that simply did not matter.

Hours later, they stopped to set up camp. Merlin stirred the stew, the wooden spoon emerging and disappearing in the thick soup. Tasting it, Merlin made a face. Maybe he had added a little too much ginger. He reached for the basil. Arthur appeared from the forest, dumping the load of firewood into the fire and crouched to watch as the servant added various ingredients. "You know, I appreciate you coming."

Merlin snorted. "It wasn't as if I had a choice in the matter. Don't ever give me that look again."

"What look?"

"You gave me the pleading eyes, you know, where you're eyes go all big and round."

The King shrugged. "Well, it worked. What were you pouting about anyway?"

Merlin didn't answer. The king tilted his head, trying to decipher his expression. The younger man's eyes were downcast, the corners of his mouth turned down slightly He almost looked guilty. Suddenly, Arthur's eyes sparked with mirth. "You sneaky little..." his sentence was left unfinished as he chuckled. Merlin just looked at him, oblivious. Forcing his breathing to slow down, Arthur grinned at his servant. "You didn't think you could hide it forever, did you? You can't keep secrets from me."

Merlin's eyes widened. "You... know?"

"Of course I do!"

"But... you won't throw me in the dungeons?"

The king raised his eyebrows. "What? That would be extreme, wouldn't it?"

Merlin didn't know what to say. As he redirected his gaze back to his pot, Arthur scooted closer and nudged him. "What's her name?" He drawled the last word, pronouncing it so it seemed as if he were teasing. Merlin shook his head. "Although I know how much you enjoy matchmaking, a girl is not why I was 'pouting'."

Arthur's smile melted. He hoped he hadn't upset the servant. "Oh."

Merlin handed him a steaming bowl of stew, the slight up-turn of his lips betraying the fact that he was actually very amused.

* * *

**Yeah, I know, short and boring, BUT, yes that 'but' deserves to be capitol, BUT in the next chapter we'll get to Dragoon/Emrys! I always love it when Merlin becomes old like that. Grumpy and powerful. The ultimate combination.**

**-The World Out There**


	5. Dragons and Prophecies

**AN: Ahem. So maybe I broke my promise. This chapter will not be featuring Dragoon, although it is still very important. Next chapter, however, you'll have plenty of his grumpy magnificence, so don't worry.**

**Disclaimer: I own Merlin as much as I own a dog. I don't have a dog.**

* * *

Arthur glared into the pale golden sunlight, his eyelids half-way open as he adjusted to the sudden brightness. He felt itchy and weird, and apparently hadn't lain still while he slept. His blanket lay hanging from a branch a couple feet away.

Slowly, he opened his eyes fully. His eyelids felt heavier than usual, but before he could question it, he noticed the main difference.

His vision was better.

It wasn't a subtle difference, he noted. It was like he had transformed into an eagle and back again, but had managed to keep the sight. He could see the bumps, flaws and ridges in a pebble a hundred feet away, and spotted a mosquito hovering over it as well. He blinked. What was happening? He needed someone to talk to before he would go insane.

Detecting Merlin, the cursed King approached him, feet sinking into the soft earth. Leaning over the sleeping figure, he reached to shake Merlin, but was stopped by his sleepy voice. His lids remained closed, but he seemed to sense Arthur's presence.

"Kilgarrah? Whaddya doing here? Did you change your mind?" he yawned groggily, still not opening his eyes. What? Kilgarrah? Merlin was obviously confused.

"Merlin. Wake up."

"You swallow a bird or something? 'Cuz I'm not gonna help you outta that again."

Arthur had no idea who Kilgarrah was, let alone how someone was supposed to swallow a bird. He shook his head.

"Merlin."

"No. I am not doing that again, Kilgarrah, you know how much energy that took? You would think a cryptic old lizard like you would know-"

"Merlin! I don't know who Kilgarrah is, or how in the world he could swallow a bird, but you'd better wake up _right now._"

The young man sat up, sleepily rubbing his eyes. "You know you can't fool me, you crazy old dr-" His sentence was cut off when he squinted at the King. They stood there a moment, just staring at each other in silence.

Then Merlin screamed.

* * *

He screamed, shutting his eyes tightly.

_What the hell?_ Merlin asked himself. _That was definitely NOT Kilgarrah._ The aura that surrounded that... creature was the exact same as the old dragon. It was magic, that was sure. It radiated power, power so great anyone else than a dragon lord would feel compelled to bow. But, as he had confirmed before, it was not Kilgarrah. Who else could it be? Certainly not- oh. Oh. Carefully and suspicious, he opened one eye, staring at the strange yet familiar presence before him.

_Arthur?_

The King had changed drastically. Instead of blue, intense golden orbs stared back at him, seeming somehow reptile. The pupils had narrowed, and the eyes were set slightly diagonally in a cat-like fashion. Small, golden scales appeared under them, winding around his cheekbones and tracing the bold jawline. They seemed to evade his cheeks and nose, reappearing under his nostrils and continuing down to his chin. His lips had disappeared, leaving only a dark line to indicate where his mouth was. His hair was the only recognizable part, but it too had obtained a golden hue.

"Merlin, if you don't stop staring at me, I will slap you here and now."

"I- I..."

"Spit it out."

"Take your shirt off." The warlock blurted, surprising himself.

"What?" Arthur narrowed his eyes. It was quite intimidating actually, the pupils narrowing even more and the gold in the iris suddenly obtaining a reddish shade._ Just like Camelot, _Merlin thought absentmindedly. He cleared his throat and repeated shakily: "Take your shirt off. I need to see how... how your wound is healing." He finished slowly, deciding that Arthur would not be ready for the news.

Arthur lifted an eyebrow. "Okay. If that is all." He cast Merlin a suspicious glance. The young man desperately hoped he looked nonchalant. The King would flip out if he discovered scales covering half his body.

Shrugging his shirt off, Arthur turned his back to Merlin, allowing him to take off the bandage. The bandage itself was huge, covering the King's entire back. Merlin had been confused before and had quizzed Gaius repeatedly on why it was so big, but as he peeled off the fabric, he knew why. The old physician had seen this coming. Merlin's eyes widened as he took in the golden scales racing up Arthur's spine, fading back into skin as they neared the nape of his neck. The tiny plates were arranged in random patterns, swirling and spinning but avoiding his shoulder blades entirely. At first Merlin's eyes did not see it, but then he froze. Something else was developing under the skin. Something big. _Wings_.

Dear God.

Half of the warlock's mind was grinning. Priceless. Absolutely priceless. Arthur was turning into a _dragon_, of all things? The irony! Fate had a weird sense of humor indeed.

The other half, however entertained by this idea, was worried. Arthur couldn't rule Camelot as a dragon. The kingdom had been attacked by one just a few years ago, and even without this fact, they would panic. Their protector would become a threat. And there was also the fact that Arthur would become possessed...

No. This was bad. Really bad. Merlin couldn't have a dragon rampaging through the kingdom, creating chaos and destruction wherever it went. He didn't even know if being a dragon lord would count for anything, since this was a curse and Arthur would not be a real dragon.

Hell, the royal prat didn't even know what was happening yet.

"You done? How long does it take to look at a wound?" Arthur turned around, folding his arms across his bare chest. The scales were scattered across his shoulders, reaching toward his elbows. These were faded, less obvious ones. It was as if the scales were consciously trying to avoid being seen by the King until he was fully transformed.

"Yes, I just encountered a, ah, minor problem." Merlin tried to smile reassuringly.

"And what would this minor problem be?"

The servant bit his lip. There was no way he was going to hide this for long. He just hoped Arthur wouldn't direct his anger on him. But he would, Merlin knew. He was Arthur's own personal scapegoat. He would certainly be blamed, somehow or rather, for this new development.

Gesturing vaguely at the scales on the King's shoulders, he shuffled his feet nervously. To his surprise, the shouting never started. Instead, when he looked up, he saw only confusion in the other man's eyes. "Merlin, you have to be more obvious than that."

Oh God. He was trapped. "Well, uh..."

"Yes?"

Merlin didn't want to say it. It would mean verbal communication, and he knew it would be awkward, as he was always awkward when he was anxious. "You'rekindagrowingscalesandstuff." He muttered, turning his head to obtain sudden interest in a fly.

"What?" The voice sounded strained and incredulous. Arthur had heard and understood him, that he was sure of, which meant he didn't have to repeat himself. Relieved and regaining some of his courage, Merlin turned back to face his friend.

"I am not going to repeat that. You'll either get angry at me or panic and THEN get angry at me."

"But... Scales?" Arthur's gaze found the golden plates on his shoulders. Eyes widening, he stared silently at them. Merlin felt a pang of sympathy. The noble had been taught to recognize magical creatures, and it was clear he knew exactly which one the scales belonged to. Tense, he waited for a reaction. The royal sighed, more frustrated than anything, and pulled his shirt back over his head. "Well, let's go soon. The less time we waste, the better."

Merlin blinked. That was unexpected. Almost no reaction at all. "Yes, sire."

* * *

Arthur was not surprised. Transforming into a dragon? Yes, unpleasant, but not unpredictable. After all, his name was Pen_dragon_ and he _had_ slayed the Great Dragon. Karma always came back to punch him in the face in some way or another.

He was still upset though. Upset, but curious. What were the uses of these things? Based on what Merlin told him, the scales on his back were oval, a vibrant golden colour and overlapping. When the servant touched them, however, they were surprisingly flexible and bent easily under his fingers. It seemed that if under constant pressure, the scales would bend and allow the dragon to squeeze into smaller spaces. But, when Merlin tried tapping and knocking, they also discovered that if anything quick and forceful would collide with them, they would immediately harden into solid armor, which would prove extremely useful in battle. Arthur found it intriguing. If only they had chainmail like that.

But no matter how interesting these new changes were, they did nothing to change his foul mood. After the quick experiments with the scales, they hopped back onto their horses(or rather; Merlin fell onto his horse) and continued their journey to the forest. Merlin seemed to become agitated as they neared their destination, shifting constantly in his saddle. He even fell off a couple of times, he was moving so much. Arthur caught phrases as he muttered under his breath: "Stupid destiny" "Overgrown lizard" "Too cryptic". This was extremely confusing for the cursed King, although he swore he heard Merlin mentioning the Easter bunny.

Why the poor Easter bunny had anything to do with this at all, he didn't know.

* * *

Merlin felt rotten. He didn't have a plan. The main idea was that they would arrive at Emrys'/Dragoon's hut, he would transform into an old man, cure Arthur, then disappear and return as himself. Mission complete.

The main problem was, unfortunately, a big one. And because of this main problem, the main idea would not work.

He didn't know how to cure Arthur.

Gaius had made it clear that he hardly knew anything about the curse, and Geoffrey didn't either. The poor librarian had helped him look up and down the shelves, without any luck. Even Kilgarrah had refused to tell him anything. Merlin sighed, frustrated, as he recalled the encounter:

Encounter with the Great Dragon(Night before departure)

_The dragon chuckled, huge frame shaking as regarded the warlock with newfound interest. "Dare I believe it? The King, cursed to transform into a magical creature?" When the creature saw Merlin nod curtly, he started(literally) roaring with laughter. "How fitting!"_

_The servant crossed his arms, scowling. "Ha-ha. Do you realize that I will be the one to solve this?"_

_Kilgarrah smirked. "Yes, of course, young warlock. You are Emrys. You are destined for great things."_

_"How do I cure him?"_

_"I do not know."_

_The warlock blinked. "You don't... know?"_

_Kilgarrah hummed, pleased at the fact that Merlin wouldn't believe it. "I do not." he admitted. "Although, there is a prophecy."_

_Merlin frowned. "Is there a prophecy for everything I do?"_

_"In fact, I think there is. I remember a prophecy about you spilling wine on the king's favorite shirt. It was something like: _

_**To spill alcohol over the King's favorite shirt**_

_**He survived, although it did hurt**_

_**Even while looking all innocent and meek,**_

**_For the first time, Emrys managed to stay in the stocks for a week_**_"_

_Merlin rolled his eyes, face flushing with embarrassment. "Focus, Kilgarrah."_

_"You sure you want to know?"_

_"Yes, because otherwise the kingdom will be in peril. Now please tell me." _

_The dragon sighed. "Fine. You want the prophecy? Here you go._

**_When a curse is cast on the Once and Future King_**

**_Fear and chaos he shall bring_**

**_To wander in darkness, fear and secrets_**

**_And find cure, death and weakness_**

**_To silver or fire, it will fall_**

**_The key will be lost in an empty hall_**

**_The lock shall be broken and rediscovered_**

**_Leaving the bane of Emrys uncovered"_**

_(End flashback)_

Merlin did not know what to think. Ever since Arthur had grown scales, the eight lines seemed to circle his head, whispering threateningly. The first two were at least pretty obvious, but the rest made no sense at all. To wander in darkness, fear and secrets? The Key? Bane of Emrys? It was all nonsense to him.

And they certainly didn't help him find a cure.

* * *

**AN: Well, I hope that made up for my two week absence. It's a lot longer than my usual, and it was extremely hard to write. The prophecies were very fun to create(especially the one about the wine). I nearly made one about missing socks as well, but thought better of it. At least it spared your eyes. I'm rather bad at rhyming.**

**If you're disappointed that Arthur didn't really react angry or upset or crazy, etc. don't worry, you'll get your share of grumpy in the following chapters.**

**-The World Out There**


	6. Emrys

**Disclaimer: IDOM**

**AN: Hi, all! Thank you for being so patient. This chapter will mostly be conversation between Dragoon and Arthur. Longest chapter I've written so far!**

* * *

Merlin nudged his horse forward, suddenly on edge. The forest was shrouded by a thick fog that had come in at around noon, and his inability to see certainly did not help his nerves. Faint outlines of trees could be seen at either side of the path, making him feel so small, so helpless. They would emerge out of nowhere, a wall of wood, and fade back into fog as he passed them. He could almost imagine the shack appear out of the mist. Dread pooled in his stomach. They would arrive within the hour, he knew. Perhaps in a matter of minutes. What would he do then?

He didn't have the cure, and there was no guarantee that Arthur wouldn't simply run him through on the spot. He was sure to recognize him as Dragoon. After all, he had killed the King. His stomach clenched at the memory of Uther, waking, _smiling_, and then dying. He had never meant for that to happen. And yet it had. If only he had paid more attention...  
"We're here." Arthur said in a soft voice, slowing his horse to walk alongside Merlin. The servant froze, clinging to the reins. Those were the last words he wanted to hear at the moment.  
The mist thinned minimally, allowing him to see the hut. It looked much like normal, camouflaged between the trees and leaning precariously to the left, probably because of the recent storm. The wood looked decayed in some places, and the abandoned structure looked barely stable enough to live in.

The King frowned at it. "I've been here before." He said, turning to stare at Merlin with narrowed eyes. The gold in them glowed almost fluorescently and the black of the slits contrasted sharply. The warlock swallowed. He had almost forgotten that the King now had dragon eyes, which made him even more intimidating.

"You have?" He yelped, pretending to be oblivious.

"Yes, you idiot. And I happen to remember that this was home to the sorcerer who killed my father." his voice was a growl, dangerously low. Merlin's breath hitched in his throat with fear, not expecting it to sound so guttural. He could easily imagine a dragon saying it, regarding him with those reptile-like eyes. Mustering the strength he had, he managed a lopsided grin. Why he did this was lost to him, but hopefully it would offer his friend some comfort.

"Oh. Well, you'd better go in and meet him then."

Arthur did not look comforted in the least. "Merlin! I'm not- this is the man who killed my father!"

"Yes, you already said that."

"I can't just go in and have tea with him!"

"Look, Arthur, he's Emrys. He can cure you. Just get it over with and go inside already."

The royal looked extremely upset at this comment, but swung down from his horse nonetheless. He landed lightly, his feet hardly making a sound as they sunk into the soft ground, and started to walk towards the abandoned structure. The servant was already halfway out of his saddle when Arthur turned to face him. He smiled innocently, freezing in the awkward position. One foot still stuck in the stirrup, the other leg being held dangerously in the air, he wobbled slightly. Arthur raised an eyebrow, all apparent negative thoughts gone.

"What are you doing, _Mer_lin?"

The man in question bit his lip, mentally thanking that the King hadn't turned half a minute later. He would have already disappeared, and that would be sure to raise questions. "I need to pee."

"Do you? If I remember correctly, you had to last time too."

"Well, I really need to go, so..."

Arthur snorted, waving a hand dismissively. "Go on then, but I fully expect you to be here when I get back."

The warlock grinned goofily. It seemed luck was on his side today, or at least for now.

Then he fell off his horse.

* * *

Arthur smiled to himself as he heard Merlin's surprised squeak and a soft _thump_ that confirmed his suspicion. He suppressed a laugh. Merlin's clumsiness was a blessing sometimes, cheering him up immediately whenever he was frightened or sad. His smile melted. He could not afford to be distracted from his task, maybe Dragoon had seen him coming. No doubt that cranky old man would set up a magical trap of some kind.

His steps heavy with dread, his made his way to the hut. It was smaller than he remembered, the wood darker and rotting in some places. The windows were dirty, the roof showing holes. Surely Dragoon would at least try to keep his living space in order? If he hadn't been here before, he would have assumed it had been abandoned years ago.

Carefully, he nudged the door, bracing himself for an arrow in his side, or inability to move, or spontaneously dying. But nothing happened. Frowning, he pushed it open.

It was much as he remembered. The walls were made of simple stone, and animals hung from the ceiling. It had a comfortable atmosphere, he noticed. Candles were scattered across the room, resting on desks and shelves. None of them were lit, but a surprising amount of light was filtered through the filthy glass. The small fireplace was also empty of flame. Random tools were spread across the floor, and Arthur spotted the entrance to the next room, which he knew held the table he sat at last time he was here. Avoiding the sharp edges, he picked up a shard of pottery. It was cold to the touch, and curved slightly. He realized this might be part of Dragoon's 'favorite pot'. It had the same design on it, and wasn't that far from where he had dropped it. Did he clean up _at all_? He broke this years ago!

The sound of the door shutting behind him made him jump, dropping the shard. It shattered, spreading the fragments across the floor and only adding to the mess.

He turned to Dragoon, who raised an eyebrow and eyed the remnants of the shard. He looked the same as well, his long white hair falling into his eyes. His slightly stooped posture suggested pain or simply age, and his ankle was in a rather awkward position. A worn leather bag was slung over his shoulder, the dust covering his face only adding to the impression that he had been traveling. His orbs were a stormy blue, a spark of amusement half-hidden in the folds of his eyelid, but otherwise the eyes were cool, intelligent. It was strange, Arthur felt as if he knew this man for far longer than he actually did.

"Breaking my pots again, are you?" The sorcerer was doing his best to look cross, but Arthur could practically see the hidden smile in the lines of his ancient face. The royal could feel the rage bubbling up inside him. This man had killed his father, murdered the only family member he was able to trust. And he dared to laugh at him? He was supposed to be begging for forgiveness!

But, he could not let his rage get the better of him. He could not kill this man. If he truly was Emrys, he could be the only solution to this growing problem.

"That was hardly a pot!" he protested, forcing the old resentment to settle in his stomach.

This earned a grunt from Dragoon, but he wasn't paying attention to Arthur anymore. Instead, he was looking at the mess on the ground with weary interest. "Stupid wyverns," he muttered, "think they own the place when I'm gone."

"Wyverns?"

"Oh yes, they are the equivalent of rats in the magical world. Steal your food, destroy your home, kill your guests-"

"What?"

"Yes, they are quite annoying. Better clean this up." Snapping his fingers, his eyes glowed a molten gold. The room righted itself, books straightening on the shelves, windows cleaned in an instant. The tools on the floor gathered and disappeared with a blue puff of smoke. Arthur suspected they had reappeared in the shed behind the shack. Several candles were lit for additional light. He felt his hand creep across his waist, reaching for his sword. This was not natural. Such blatant use of magic, it was not something he was used to. Finger finding the hilt of Excalibur, he slid the sword out of its sheath. With a glance from the old man, the blade was torn from his fingertips. Arthur turned his head abruptly toward the motion. Swiftly, the weapon was out of reach, being laid gently at the other end of the room.

"You won't be needing your shiny poker, Pendragon." Dragoon chided, moving past him to set herbs on a random shelf.

"That is not natural. Magic is not natural." Arthur tensed when the man brushed past him, reaching for his sword that was not there. He was ready to bolt, ready to fight with his bare hands if needed.

"Says the King who's turning into a dragon." The older man muttered, not even trying to hide it from the royal's ears.

His anger calmed almost immediately, the storm in his heart subsiding. Why, he could not comprehend. Perhaps it was that the old man didn't try to disguise the truth, or maybe because he was not afraid. Arthur, loathe as he was to admit it, was starting to admire this man. "Technically, that was caused by magic as well." He responded drily.

"No, it wasn't. It was caused by hatred and evil. Will you tell me why you're here or should I assume you came here just to break another pot?"

Arthur had forgotten about Dragoon's sarcastic sense of humor. He folded his arms, feeling the scales on his arms scratch his sleeves as he did so. "I came for Emrys' help."

"The dragon issue, eh? Hmmm. I suppose it's a problem. Those overgrown newts are as annoying-" suddenly his head snapped up to glare at the ceiling. "YES I SAID NEWT!" He bellowed, smacked his lips, then continued as if nothing had happened: "-as your face. The less the better."

Surprised at his sudden outburst, Arthur forgot to feel insulted. "Who were you shouting at?"

"Did I do that out loud? Age must be catching up with me. It was one of those wyverns. Cousins of the dragons, you know. Felt insulted."

"You can talk to wyverns?"

"Nyah." the sound was non-committal. "Are you going to tell me what the problem is or do I have to find out for myself? There must be a reason why the mighty King of Camelot would come to see a petty sorcerer like me."

Arthur raised an eyebrow, contemplating the look of indifference on the sorcerer's face. He was a good actor, he'd give him that much. "Petty? I was told Emrys was the most powerful warlock of all time."

The empty expression faltered, shock flickering over his aged features. And was that... fear? Dragoon and fear didn't match. They were opposites. Before Arthur could think about it, it was gone. The older man muttered something under his breath, probably a curse, and glared at the King with narrowed eyes. The cool orbs looked deadly.

"Bah! Is this becoming common knowledge?" he seethed, pointing a shaking finger at Arthur. "First the dragon, then the druids and now apparently you! Do you have any idea how annoying it is? The dragon is bad enough with his cryptic advice. 'Young warlock, you have a great destiny, so set me free, learn to control your powers, oh and help the druids EVERY SINGLE TIME THEY ASK!' and then when THE DRUIDS hear about this they were like: 'Oh, Emrys, you are so great and powerful we must bother you whenever we can.' 'Oh, Emrys, you must save us, even though it is but a spider.' 'Oh, Emrys, I'm sorry you heard about this a little late, but that monster you're fighting right now has come to kill you.' Thank God I can shut them out of my mind now. Although that dragon..." He let the sentence hang in the air, making it clear he didn't like whatever 'the dragon' was saying in his mind.

"Dragon? There is another dragon?"

The fear returned long enough to Dragoon's face for him to know he had hit a sore spot. _Trapped_, Arthur thought smugly. The older man's expression abruptly changed to indignation, and the King immediately knew that he was in for another shouting session.

"Of course there isn't! What do you think I am, a dragon whisperer?"

"Then why-"

"No. I will not answer that! You already know too much. Will you stop prancing around the subject and tell me what you want already?"

"You will cure me."

Dragoon's voice lowered to barely louder than a whisper. "Will I now? The Araendye curse can not be cured with a simple spell." He regarded Arthur with a guarded gaze. "And it will do you good to see how magic actually works."

"Look, I don't know what that means, but I don't have much time. I woke up looking like this," The King gestured vaguely to the scales lining his face. "and it won't be long until I am fully transformed and possessed. You _will_ cure me."

Dragoon sighed. "Looks like we both have a problem then. I can't cure you; I don't know how to."

He did not expect that. He did _not_ expect that.

Arthur staggered backwards. The steely wall of calm he had put up around his soul crumbled_, _leaving only dust to defend against the panic. _No_, _no, no, no, no. This is bad. This is very bad, _he thought. He had been certain that he would find a cure here. "Is there nothing you can do?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

"Well. I do know of one spell that may postpone the possession, but it will do nothing to hinder the physical change. I'm afraid there's nothing we can do about that just yet."

"'We'?"

"Yes, well, I can't let the Once and Future King out of my eyesight now. No matter how arrogant he is."

"The Once and Future-"

"Yes, that's you. Oh, don't flatter yourself. Just because you're prophesied doesn't mean you're not an idiot."

Grabbing various herbs and vegetables from a table, Dragoon stuffed them in his leather bag and limped out of the room. His steps were irregular, Arthur noticed as he followed. He was practically dragging one foot, relying on the support of the other to move. He must have taken a fall on the way back. "Stop." Arthur ordered, resting a hand on the older man's arm. "Where are we going?"

Bewildered at the sudden question, Dragoon furrowed his brow and slowed, leaves crunching under his feet. "What kind of question is that? To the druids of course!"

"But that is another day's ride! We do not have the time; my servant is coming as well and there are only two horses. You certainly can't walk."

The old man barked out a laugh, his eyes squinting with mirth. "Don't worry about the boy. He won't be coming."

Arthur reached for his sword, which had miraculously reappeared at his side. He didn't take the time to wonder about this, unsheathing it with a practiced move and holding it to Dragoon's throat. The honed edge broke through the wrinkled skin, a trickle of blood creeping down to his collarbone. "What do you mean?" Arthur asked slowly, his lips pronouncing every syllable carefully. "What did you do to him?"

"Nothing! I bumped into him on my way to the hut, that's all. The fool wasn't expecting to see anyone but you. When he saw me, he nearly jumped out of his skin and ran away."

"Ran away to where?"

"How am I supposed to know?"

"Answer me."

Dragoon sighed, eyeing the blade at his throat. "Nice. I do admire a man who says please.* I'll assume that if the boy has any sense, he would have run to the nearest village."

"Village? He's not coming back then?"

"Do you have any brains at all? You're standing here asking me questions I can not answer! How do I know what he does? You are wasting time."

Glancing up at the sun, Arthur saw that he was right. More than an hour had slipped by while talking to the sorcerer, and if Merlin wasn't back by now, he probably wouldn't be anytime soon. _We don't have time to wait_, he realized. Dusk would approach in a couple of hours, and Arthur had rather they at least started their journey before the day ended. "You're right." he said, pausing. "We don't have the time." He sheathed his sword, the action extracting a small sigh of relief from Dragoon, which neither acknowledged. The old man muttered something barely audible, and once more his eyes blazed gold:

_"Adwínest, fæcne grundhyrde! Náwa ácierest feorhberend. Bist ierre!"_

Arthur felt as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders_. _He hadn't noticed it before, but it had felt as if something had shared the space of his body, as if there was another presence beside his own. As Dragoon finished chanting, he felt the presence shift, retreating to the corners of his awareness. It was strange, he knew it was there now, but it stayed out of his way. For now. Emrys hadn't banished it completely, it seemed. He sent the old man a sidelong glance. "Postponing my possession?"

Dragoon nodded, his aged features serious for once. "Yes."

"But it isn't gone."

"No. It is merely hiding, but it won't disturb you for a while. I'm afraid it is impossible to remove it completely."

Arthur regarded him carefully. "You tried." He said at last, turning toward his horse. The man was mysterious. It was strange how fast he could change from a cranky, sarcastic old man to a wise, intelligent being. If possible, Arthur found it even more eery how he seemed so familiar, as if he knew him for years. He swung back into his saddle, glancing back at Dragoon, who was struggling to get on Merlin's horse.

He had a feeling that there was a lot more to this man than he knew.

* * *

**AN: Finally! This chapter has been... a pain to write. Thank you for your support!**

***sentence taken directly from S4: Servant of Two Masters.**

**Rough translation of spell(If you check you'll probably find a bazillion errors): "Vanish, vile keeper of the Abyss! Never return to this being. Be gone!"**


End file.
